


Breathe (don't forget to)

by vexmybones



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Vampire Diaries (TV), Thor (Movies)
Genre: All the freaks come out at night., BAMF Darcy Lewis, Blood squick maybe, Crossover, Darcy and the Salvatores might be bros., Darcy is scary., Domestic Avengers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I blame the season., Implied Delena, Implied Steroline, Just stop reading the tags and read the thing., M/M, Marvel/TVD crossover sorta, Not Beta Read, Not really., She's also hot like WHOA., Sorry Not Sorry, The Winter Soldier is scary., Vampires Ahoy!, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 12:35:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2468393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vexmybones/pseuds/vexmybones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We all have secrets, and like dead weight in the water they'll eventually come to the surface. </p><p>(AKA the one with vampire!Darcy.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe (don't forget to)

**Author's Note:**

> A. I blame this on it being October and all of the vampire shows coming back on.  
> B. It says crossover but I can promise you that 96% of it is Darcy/Avenger centric!  
> C. For this world let us pretend that Damon is happily attached to Elena's hip as is Stefan attached to Caroline's. Because I reject the TVD writer's reality and will forever live in my own fantasy!  
> D. If you do not watch TVD, disregard C and make up your own ideas of who these weird characters are. You have my permission.  
> And, E. Should you give this a chance, thank you.  
> That being said, on with the show! ;)

 

 

Greedy hands grip sweat slick skin, obscene moans and breathless pleas for more filling the silence as they move in perfect choreography. Dark locks damp with perspiration are tossed over a pale shoulder making for a sight when they cascade down the alabaster expanse of Darcy’s back. Her spine arches just like the string of his bow pulled taut and ready to fire, his calloused hands playing her body with the same reverence that he shows his weapon. Underneath Darcy, Clint gazes up the line of her torso, his eyes distracted by the bounce of her ample breasts as they move with each grind of her hips. He’s all but lost, inhibitions and morals gone, burnt away with the rolling tides of his desire. He’s her puppet in this moment (and it’s of his own free will) and short of an invasion nothing could pull him away from her.

Darcy licks the plush of her lips as a moan crawls its way up her throat, her body working in fluid and effortless motions to draw pleasure out of the man lying beneath her. She really shouldn’t have given in to her baser needs but it had been so long. She knew there was a chance, an unfortunate probability that her façade would slip in the blood rush, but like she said, it had been _so long_. Seducing him and getting him into her bed had been a simple task. She just hoped he stayed…

 

*

_-Two weeks earlier…_

 

“Sooo, you and Barton, huh?”

“Yep.” Darcy replies absently without looking up from her laptop screen.

“Don’t you think it’s a little sudden?”

“Because I have so many guys lining up asking to fill my dance card?”

“Come on now, doll, you know I’d happily dance with you.”

“Yeah, thanks but no thanks. I really don’t think decapitation by Cap’s shield is the way I want to go out.”

Bucky lets out a small chuckle at that and nudges her shin with the toe of his boot. Darcy rolls her eyes and pushes her laptop aside. Folding her arms atop her desk she gives the assassin her full attention. He gives her his sly grin in return and mirrors her pose, metal fingers tapping out a staccato rhythm on the chrome of her desk.

“What? What is so wrong with me and Barton talking?”

“All you’re doing is talking?”

“Is it any of your business?”

“Yes.”

Huffing out an exasperated breath, Darcy lets her head fall to her arms. This was the third time this week she’d been cornered by a member of the team and interrogated about her ‘thing’ with Barton. So she was seeing him (they didn’t want to label it just yet, both too burnt from previous relationship failures) and seriously, she couldn’t see what the big deal was. A couple of bad (really bad bad-guy type) mistakes on her part and they all were mother henning all over the place.

“Look,” Darcy straightens back up to meet Barnes’ eyes, intense grey hues trying to see into her very soul (newsflash, she doesn’t _have_ one!). Brushing an errant strand from her face she levels him with her own stare. “I know you and everyone else are only trying to be protective or whatever, but I can handle myself. So when they ask later you can tell them that everything is _fine_. I love you all but _butt out_!”

She watches as he blinks a couple times before breaking their gaze and standing to his feet. Oops… Darcy would feel bad for that little furrow of confusion between his brows but she can’t. She cannot have them prying too deeply into her life. Bucky sighs a bit defeated and nods at her before he speaks in parting.

“Gotcha. We love you too, doll. Hope you know that.”

“I dooo, now get out of here before I sic Jane on you!”

Bucky laughs easily and salutes her, turning on his heel and leaving. Once he’s out of view Darcy slumps back into her chair, blowing out an exaggerated sigh of frustration. She knows that her friends are just protective, but it gets tiring playing the helpless damsel. But it’s necessary unless she wants to be the next bug under the newly rebuilt SHIELD’s microscope. And no thank you, been there done that and she burnt the damn t-shirt.

“I’m a damsel. I’m in distress. I can handle this. Have a nice day!” Darcy quotes to herself as she turns her attention back to the data she’d been sorting through but though her gaze is on her computer screen her mind is miles away. You see, Darcy is fortunate to have the friends that she does but they make it very difficult to hide in plain sight, what with all of their spy capabilities and what not. She learned a _long_ time ago how to keep her secrets close to her chest but like most things in her experience, nothing stays hidden for long.

Her fingers fly across the keyboard as her mind takes a vacation and before she knows it, it’s five. And it’s Friday which means it’s her ‘Mental Health Night’. Jane and the others know she gets all dolled up and goes out every Friday and sometimes she even asks some to tag along. But more often than not, Darcy likes to fly solo and for good reason.

“Jane-y Pooh, I’m outta here. Thor will be here in an hour to get you so I suggest you wrap up whatever you’re going cross-eyed at over there, mkay?”

“Thor what? Where am I going?” Darcy rolls her eyes as she shoves her iPod into her pocketbook and stands. She shuts down her laptop and tucks it under her arm before turning to the blinking scientist.

“Big Blonde and Beaming is picking you up for that charity thing with Dr. Fluffy and Nat.”

“But… I don’t have anything to—“

“Yes, yes you do. Nat got your dress last week and there will be food there and an open bar. Don’t get too smashed and take pics of you and Thor for me.”

“You’re not going? Wait, where’s Hawkeye? Stark isn’t going is he?!”

“It’s Mental Health Friday, Clint is somewhere classified but I know it’s sandy and tropic and I doubt Tony will be going. Pepper never mentioned it anyway.”

“Oh…” Jane nodded and reached up to tug a pen out of her messy bun. “Okay… So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Pancakes and coffee whenever we’re coherent followed by a drama filled Lifetime movie marathon.”

Darcy grinned as Jane smiled gratefully up at her and she blew her a kiss and was out the door. Drama Llama Saturdays started back in New Mexico and had been a thing ever since. It was sort of a tradition now and Darcy loved it. It was the one day she could pry the tiny astrophysicist out of the lab for more than an hour, and they shared a passion for Lifetime movies that no one but them understood. Also, pajamas, they were mandatory.

Making her way up to her 73rd floor apartment, Darcy puts her things away before turning on one of her club playlists and stripping bare. Tossing her clothes into the hamper she takes a quick shower, the heady scent of pomegranates and her shampoo filling the air. She takes her time getting ready, carefully applying her makeup, a smoky eye that plays up her blue hues, a red lip to make people stare, and a perfectly drawn winged eyeliner. Dabbing on an intoxicatingly musky perfume on all of her pulse points, she stands in front of her closet in nothing but her black and lacy bra and panties set.

She opts for black tights under a wine colored sequined mini-skirt and a tucked in black three quartered sleeve tunic top that makes the girls play peek-a-boo with it’s semi-deep v-neck. After dressing she dries her hair and coaxes it into loose curls then finishes her look with a pair of black leather ankle high heeled boots. With a glance in her full length mirror, she grins, satisfied with her efforts and grabs her phone snapping a picture and sending it to Barton’s phone. She isn’t sure he’ll even get it seeing as how he’s on assignment, but they had been texting back and forth whenever he could get away with it, so she figures he’ll appreciate it if he does. The caption simply reads; ‘ _Miss you.’_

As she makes sure she has the important things in her clutch that she might need she can’t quite wipe the smile from her face. She and Clint had started out with flirting (a _lot_ of flirting) back in New Mexico when he’d swooped in and directed the return of their equipment. They’d maybe made out once or twice, but Darcy would like to note that alcohol had been involved. But once SHIELD had packed up and hit the road she’d written it off as a good time and returned to her usual routine. But as with everything that comes with Norse gods and aliens, and superheroes, she and Jane had soon been tossed into the fray of things. Whisked away from one place to the next, told next to nothing, then London had happened. After that Pepper had somehow convinced Jane that them moving to New York with all the others was the ideal thing to do.

That had been three years ago, now. When Darcy had seen Barton again they’d both been drawn to each other like moths to a flame. It had taken some drunken nights, loud arguments about nothing in particular, half-truth confessions on both of their parts, and near death experiences (Clint more so than her). But when all was said and done even Natasha was routing for them to just ‘ _fuck already. You’re children!’_  It wasn’t that Darcy didn’t want to rock his world, oh believe her she does, but she was just a little hesitant…

Making out, sure they were pros at that now, but they’d only been _together_ about a month, officially. She still had demons to contain before she could take that next step. And if Clint had a problem, well, he wasn’t grumbling about it to her at least. He seemed happy and that made _her_ happy. But in the week that he’d been away, Darcy has been unsettled, restless. His scent lingers in her lungs and when she closes her eyes she can taste the beer he always brings when she cooks for the two of them. She can taste his skin, the surprisingly soft pillows of his lips when they kiss. And, God, does she want him. Hissing in a breath, she shakes off her thoughts and makes sure everything’s off and exits her apartment.

When the elevator doors slide open she rolls her eyes at the sharp whistle that sounds as she steps into the lift.

“And where do you think you’re going dressed like that, young lady?”

“Out.”

“Seriously, that’s what you’re going with?”

“Oh, I’m sorry I was under the impression that I didn’t need permission to leave.”

“Wrong. I let you live here rent free. I think you should ask nicely if you want to leave my tower, princess.”

Darcy cocks an eyebrow at Tony’s smirk before flicking her gaze back to the display where the floor numbers tick by. Sometimes they snarked at each other for fun, sometimes they joined snarking forces and used it for evil, and then there were instances when Darcy just couldn’t let the bastard win. So she times it perfectly, angling her body just so, her cleavage visible and gazes up at the billionaire through her thick lashes, her voice breathy and just this side of pristine innocence when she speaks.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I deserve to be punished. You can put me over your knee and spank me when I get home…”

She lets her words trail off full of suggestion just as the doors ding open and she smirks impishly, giving the unusually flustered Tony a wink. “Night, Daddy!” Darcy tosses cheerfully over her shoulder as she steps from the elevator leaving him sputtering behind her, the heels of her boots clicking sharply with every step. She hails a cab quickly once out of the tower and settles into the backseat with a good feeling thrumming through her veins.

The club is loud, dark, and the bass beats through her bones making her itch to dance. Darcy moves towards the bar, ignoring the looks she gets for the time being, her mission for alcohol more important at the moment. Three shots of vodka later and some kind of mixed drink half down, she’s ready to dance. She weaves her way into the press of bodies that writhe around her and lets go. The music pounds through her veins with a steady beat as her body moves in sync with it. She keeps her eyes open and scoping out the people around her, looking for the perfect… meal. The alcohol only makes her hungrier and the heat from all of the dancing people amps up her need.

Hands grasp her waist cautiously and Darcy glances over her shoulder at the guy giving her a questioning look. Nodding her assent she lets him close the space between their bodies and takes a few minutes to just let herself get lost in the movement. She loves dancing and when her partner isn’t a handsy asshole it makes things so much easier for the both of them. She tries really hard not to let her control slip but she isn’t perfect. Yes, she’s killed before, some accidentally, most with purpose. Darcy isn’t ashamed of what she is, not anymore, but compelling officers and friends and starting over, it’s all just _so_ tiring. And she loves this life, loves her friends, hell, she might even love Barton, who knows? So she tries to be a good girl.

But even good little vampires need to feed.

The song changes to a quicker beat and she’s glad she chose this spot on the dance floor because her back is to the crowd when she turns around in the guy’s arms. And hey, he’s cute. Looks like the surfer type, shaggy sandy-blond hair, strong jaw line, bright blue eyes, he’ll do… as an appetizer. Darcy smiles up at his handsome face and links her arms around his neck as they dance with personal space nonexistent. His name is Mark and he has dimples. He’s visiting his sister and yep, she was right, he likes to surf. He’s easily compelled to think it will feel good for him and Darcy gives him a reassuring smile.

She leans into his frame, the music shifts to something darker, slower which works to her advantage as she noses as his neck, inhaling deeply. His scent is clean, tinged with salt that he can’t quite wash out of his pores, but it’s the thick heady warmth that lies just under that, that Darcy’s interested in. The veins under her eyes swell as her visage becomes something akin to demonic and her fangs drop with a happy sigh. She loves this part as she sinks a hand into his hair and tilts his head to the right to expose his neck. Her teeth slide into pliant flesh and that first drop of crimson lands on her tongue nearly making her whimper. It’s orgasmic, really as she pulls the scorching blood straight from the source into her mouth and down her throat, the red coating her teeth and lips.

A minute or so later she pulls back carefully with a hiss of an inhale, she licks her lips and retrieves a tissue from her clutch and cleans up his neck. She’s proud of herself when he smiles at her and stops bleeding rather quickly. They dance for two more songs and once she’s sure he’s A-Ok she unattaches his hands from her waist and makes her way back to the bar. The bartender smirks at her knowingly and slides her a tumbler of bourbon. She rolls her eyes at him and salutes him with her drink before sipping it and making a face at the first taste (it always took her a minute to let the blood mingle with the brand). It paid to have friends in low places and that’s all she’s saying on that subject. For now.

Darcy gets pleasantly drunk (maybe a little more) that night and feeds until she doesn’t feel the hunger tearing at her veins as much in the mash of bodies around her anymore. She leaves the club with a wave from Eddie (the bartender) and attempts to hail a cab. It takes her a little longer than normal but the blood and alcohol swimming in her system makes it all funny instead of annoying. Eventually she makes it back to the tower and has to walk (stagger) around to the private entrance since the idiot cabbie dropped her off out front which was locked after business hours. Thank you, Stark. She takes her heels off once she’s past the security and in the elevator and if she jumps a little bit when Jarvis speaks who can blame her?

“I trust you had an entertaining evening, Miss Darcy?”

“Sure did, J! Take me home, rocket man.”

“Right away.”

Getting to her apartment and everything after is a bit of a blur to Darcy. All she knows is that she wakes up the next morning in nothing but her panties and wrapped in her comforter where she’s sprawled out in the middle of her mattress. She groans when she realizes it was her phone ringing that woke her up and reaches out to snatch it off the nightstand.

“Sleepin’, don’t want any of what you’re sellin’. Mkay? Bye bye, now.”

“I take it you did have a good time in that little outfit that was designed to turn my balls blue, then?”

“Fuuuuuuck…”

“Yeah,” Clint’s chuckle is low and he sounds like he’d called her as soon as his eyes opened. She loved his early morning voice. “I got the pic, you tease. You hungover?”

“Don’t think so… but, haven’t moved yet.”

“You’re not still in that get-up are you?”

“Nope, just panties.”

It’s his turn to curse and she smiles sleepily and rolls onto her back, a hand coming up to pull hair off of her face before flopping lazily down over her head as she stretches. Darcy makes sure to moan a little bit for him and she has to bite back a laugh when she hears rustling and him swearing. Yeah, she was definitely ready to change things between them.

“You’re evil, Lewis.”

“You have no idea.”

“Well, I’d like _to_. I’ll be back some time this evening if everything pans out.”

“Tell Sam and Son of Coul I said hello and not to screw up, then.”

“How’d you… shit, I’m not even going to ask. Quit your hacking.”

“Oh come on, Steve’s been checking his phone like a teenage girl and he only does that when either Bucky or Sam are out. It doesn’t take a genius to know that Wilson’s not in DC where he’s supposed to be.”

“Okay, Sherlock I gotta run. Have fun with your llamas and sober up.”

“I’m telling Jane you called her and Thor llamas! But I will. See you soon, Watson.”

Clint laughs and barks out something at someone on his end before cutting the call. Darcy drops her phone to the sheets and closes her eyes. Wherever he is it must be late and he’s got his days and nights mixed up because her phone said it was eight am. Ugh. Too early but she needed to get up anyway.

After a long and hot shower, Darcy digs into the back of the tiny fridge she keeps in her walk-in closet and comes up with a bag of O-neg. She sucks it down as she gets into her most comfy of pajamas, chucks the empty bag into the trash, grabs her phone off the charger and her favorite pillow and throw, and heads to the ‘community’ floor that the Avengers share when they’re too lazy to use their own kitchen or TV. She finds a sweaty pair of super soldiers guzzling down water next to the counter, Thor sprawled out in a recliner, and no Jane. A grin breaks out over Thor’s face when he sees her and she barely has a moment to brace herself for one of his bear hugs as he springs gracefully up and towards her.

“Good morning, Lady Darcy! I trust you slept well?”

“I think I did, kinda drank a lot last night and passed out soon as my head hit the pillow.”

“Aye, so did my Jane.” He smiles fondly as he releases her. “She was still in slumber when I left our bed not an hour ago.”

“Ha! I knew she’d get wasted. Did she at least take pics for me?”

“I do believe she did. Shall I go wake her now that you’re here?”

“Nah,” Darcy shakes her head and moves to toss her stuff over the back of the couch before turning back to him and the two not-so-subtle eavesdroppers. “I promised her pancakes and coffee before Lifetime. She’ll stumble in eventually.” She doesn’t miss the interest on Steve and Bucky’s faces at the mere mention of food.

“Pancakes?” Barnes asks quietly making Darcy snicker at him then laugh aloud when Steve elbows him. His face is just as eager though and really, how could she say no to them?

“Go shower, but if you aren’t back in thirty minutes Thor’s getting yours.”

Thor beams down at her and Darcy winks at Bucky’s glare. Steve ushers Barnes from the room but she catches his “Bacon?!” and shakes her head at their retreating forms. Darcy shoos Thor from the kitchen and gets to work. She gets Jarvis to stream some music, the sound light and happy as she moves around the familiar room, making coffee first before cooking. Thor keeps her company while she dances around and in the end she ends up making enough for the entire team. She can’t really help it, though, it’s a habit.

Jarvis lets everyone know there’s breakfast as her, Barnes, Steve, and Thor set the table and within minutes the others are dragging into the kitchen. Natasha, Pepper, and Bruce are all awake, dressed, and polite as usual as they take their places, and Jane trails in behind them in her pajamas looking no worse for wears. Her pajama bottoms have dancing frogs on them and her shirt is Science! related and she’s so adorable it makes Darcy grin. Of course Tony is the last to drag in looking bleary eyed with his hair all sticky-uppy and it even makes Jane giggle.

Breakfast is comfortable with quiet conversation and a few chairs empty, but it’s enjoyable. When the bowls and platters are nearing empty, Steve banishes Darcy to the couch with the promise that he’ll clean up since she cooked. She takes Jane, Thor, and their coffee with her making him also promise to put on another pot. Thor settles into one end of the huge L-shaped couch with Jane curling into his side as Darcy turns the big screen on and finds the remotes. She plops down on Jane’s left and snuggles into her best friend leeching warmth from the woman. Jane smiles softly at her and makes her share her blanket and she never asks why Darcy seems so cold all the time, and that’s why Darcy loves her. She just takes her however she _is_.

By the time the credits roll on their second movie Nat and Pepper have joined them in their less than frumpy lounge clothes and they’re half-way through their second pot of coffee. As Darcy starts the third movie her phone chimes where it’s wedged between her hip and Jane’s. She fishes it out before anyone can scowl at the interruption and thumbs it unlocked, her stomach doing a flip at the simple initials that pop up in her messages. Opening the message she can’t bite back her smirk as she reads the greeting. It isn’t Clint and she ignores the look Nat shoots her way when that fact dawns on her. ‘ _Save me from whiney idiots. Bail me out if they leave me to rot?’_ Movie forgotten for the moment, Darcy slumps down, angling a little away from Jane as she replies to one of her oldest friends.

‘ _Are they ready to meet the awesomeness that is me?’_ His reply is instant and she can hear his laughter in her head.

‘ _It would be a nice vacation from all the chaos. They’d probably trip over your tits.’_ She barely reins in her snort as she texts him back. ‘ _You’re still an asshole, I see. Some things never change.’_

_‘Bite me. ;) Have to go kill someone. Save up my bail money, won’t you?’_

_‘Nah, I think your adorable brother would save you before I made it there. Don’t forget to clean up your messes!’_

_‘We’re definitely going to talk about that later. P.S. Denial isn’t healthy, trust me! xo’_

Darcy doesn’t justify his message with a response, instead opting to turn her cell on vibrate and sticking it back into her pocket. She turns her attention back to the movie and steadily continues to ignore the red haired assassin’s curious stare. Sometimes her past likes to remind her that it’s lurking around the corner, just a few steps behind her. She sort of dreads the day when it collides with her present because there will be questions and _henning_ , that is unless she just outs herself to her friends. Yeah, nope, she’s not ready for that, like ever.

The rest of Saturday is uneventful, quiet with Pepper, Natasha, and eventually Thor leaving Jane and Darcy to their marathon. They manage to get partially through ‘Cabin by the Lake’ one of Darcy’s favorites when Barton shows up and scares them both. Damn ninja powers. However, she’s off the couch and wrapped up in his arms (Lord, those arms!) quicker than Jane can shove her off from where she’d cowered. He laughs tiredly and apologizes to Jane as Darcy moves into the kitchen to make him something to eat. While he’s eating, Jane makes her getaway to find her golden god after hugging Darcy tightly and pressing a kiss to her temple in thanks for their lazy day.

When his sandwiches are gone and he’s full with a beer in his hand, Darcy leads the archer back to the couch and pushes him down and curls up with him. She restarts the movie much to his protests about watching a chick flick and she laughs when he quickly gets sucked into the crappy plot. They watch the movie as the sun sinks and Darcy notices him yawning and zoning out on her. Laughing quietly she coerces him into making out lazily towards the end but they’re interrupted by Bruce and Tony walking in, voices animated as they discuss something magical. She snickers when Barton groans and turns the TV off and they slip out unnoticed.

He backs her up against the wall in the elevator after giving Jarvis directions, his mouth hot and his hands sure despite his tired state. His kisses are intoxicating and Darcy moans lowly into it when he slips a thigh between her own. She delves her fingers into his hair desperate to mess it up and make him look as feral as he makes her feel. Unfortunately the lift stops on his floor and he pulls back from her, reluctantly. He grasps her hand and tugs her from the box and she has to tighten down her control as she walks him to his door. She wants to go in and spend the night letting him take her apart and returning the favor but Darcy knows that if she lets that happen telling him her secret will only be harder later on.

“Stay?” His voice is downright sinful and she has to squeeze her eyes closed as he presses her into the wall by his door once again.

“Can’t… not yet.” Darcy opens her eyes just in time to catch the frown that knits his brows. She draws a hand up to rub her thumb lightly over the furrows and leans up on tippy toe to place a kiss there, too. “Soon, I promise. I just have a few… things to work out first, okay? Can you just hang on for a little longer?”

“Are you married or something? Got a kid somewhere out there that I don’t know about?”

“Like you haven’t read my file cover to cover?”

“Still, I just…” Clint blows a breath out slowly and she inhales it into her lungs, his close proximity making his frame slide against hers in delicious ways. “I _want_ you.”

“You have me.”

“Not fully. I want you in my bed, Darce. I can’t get you out of my fucking head. I could fuck you right here and not give a damn if we were caught or who’s watching.”

A shiver skates down her spine and she lightly scratches her blunt fingernails against the nape of his neck. Darcy peppers small kisses along his jaw from his ear and ending on his lips. She knows the feeling and is so tempted to do just as he wants, but she can hear a smug voice in the back of her mind ‘tsk’ing her. So instead, Darcy pulls back until she can meet Barton’s gaze, her resolve firmly in place.

“Give me a week. Just one week and you can’t ask questions, no sleuthing around in the air vents or ninja business with Nat. And come this time next week, ask me again. Can you do that?”

Clint groans and boy does she know him well. But he nods in acceptance then kisses her until her toes curl and she’s breathless. When he steps away and into his apartment without another word, Darcy blinks owlishly at the opposite wall before pushing away from her side and walking in a daze back to the elevator. She just set a timer on their newly developed ‘thing’ and all she can hope for is that when it goes off it won’t all blow up in her face.

 

*

 

That week is relatively quiet and normal. There aren’t any invasions or lab mishaps, it’s sunny every day and really, that should have been her first sign that all hell was about to break loose. Darcy works, eats, sleeps, steals minutes with Clint, and plans. She’s decided that she’s going to go out again Friday and quench her thirst before she lays it all on the line. She’s going to tell Clint her secret on Saturday and hope for the best. Tony is taking Pepper away for the weekend, Thor is going with Jane to her mom’s for a visit, and with Sam in town keeping Steve, Barnes, and Natasha busy, Darcy figures there will be no better time to fess up.

When Friday rolls around Darcy hugs Jane and Thor and tells them to have a good time before she hightails it out of the lab. Clint had stopped in around lunch and told her he was going to be busy with Coulson that night which was perfect so she didn’t have anything to worry about. She should really listen to her instincts better, though. While she gets ready there’s a nervous energy threading through her veins and she just shrugs it off as hunger, the anticipation of drinking her fill again.

Slipping into a simple little black dress and heels, she piles her hair artfully on top of her head and checks her makeup. Tonight she’s understated and soft, deceptive considering the monster that lurks under the surface of her skin. This time there isn’t anyone in the elevator when she steps in and Jarvis is polite as ever wishing her well as she emerges into the lobby. Darcy hails a cab and is back at Eddie’s within thirty minutes, easily getting past all of the scantily clad chicks lined up outside of the door as the bouncer smirks at her. She gives him a sharp smile and a peck on the cheek when she’s on the other side of his velvet rope.

Eddie greets her with a raised brow and a shot of vodka which she’s grateful for, her nerves slightly on edge as the music pours from the speakers in the rafters.

“You looked kinda spooked tonight. You alright?”

“Peachy fucking keen. Hit me again.”

He chuckles and shakes his head but slides another shot across the bar into her hand. Darcy calms down a little as the alcohol seeps into her bloodstream and she orders her bourbon early earning a half-surprised nod from the handsome bartender. Turning around, she leans back against the bar and scans the crowd. It’s the usual crowd and no one but Eddie remembers her, just the way she likes it. She spots a group of girls dancing happily away in the corner she usually takes for herself and figures they’ll do for the first course. At the tap on her elbow, Darcy pivots back around and thanks Eddie for her drink.

She nurses the liquor for a little while longer before downing the remains and welcoming the burn. Pushing away from the bar, Darcy saunters through the crowd with a purpose, her hips swaying with every step and a smile for those that stare just a little too long. For six days out of the week Darcy covers her body up with band tees, bulky cardigans, and hoodies. She mutes her appeal, letting her snarky personality speak for her as she keeps her inner monster on a tight leash. The bitch is hungry, seductive, and she’ll eat you alive. It’s on Fridays that Darcy lets her out, lets her take the wheel, and tonight she’s feeling extremely vicious. Later Darcy will blame her lack of observation on the bitch.

Darcy dances to her own beat, her dress shimmering in the lights, curls falling softly out of place as her hips gyrate. It doesn’t take long for her first meal to approach. It’s one of the girls from the party she picked out and she smirks invitingly at the pretty blonde. She offers to buy Darcy a drink and of course she lets her. They flirt over their fruity drinks, dancing on the sidelines and she learns that it’s a bachelorette party that the girl is with. Darcy feigns interest, licking her lips when the girl tosses her drink back exposing the long column of her throat. She finally tugs her out further onto the dance floor and sighs in victory when they get pressed together by the crowd.

The music is perfect as they dance, the singer crooning about counting bodies and Darcy smiles to herself as she links her arms around the girl’s neck, her pulse beckoning Darcy closer with each flutter. Compelling her takes only a second, then her fangs are sinking into sweaty skin, blood rushing down her throat as she sucks greedily at the girl’s jugular. It’s a high that she’ll never get tired of but much too soon she has to pull back lest she drain the twit. Darcy compels her once more, ordering her to go sit down for a while and have another drink and as the girl complies, Darcy turns intent on getting another bourbon but stops dead (ha, ha) in her tracks.

It’s small but enough to make Darcy’s world narrow down and her senses perk up, the fresh hit of blood easing her focus despite the alcohol she’s had. Everything seems to slow down around her as she turns her head very slowly to her right, and oh _fuck_. At the end of the bar with a hand curled around a glass sits Bucky Barnes staring at her like he’s seeing her for the first time, which he is. Darcy can’t stop herself, she can’t control the way her eyes darken again and her fangs elongate, her mouth watering with the question of what he tastes like caught in the back of her throat. She’s never wanted to feed from her friends, she’d disciplined herself for years but the way his eyes narrow make her _want_ to give in to her darkness. Like calls to like and as he throws back whatever poison is in his glass and straightens, Darcy watches as Bucky recedes in front of her eyes. He’s replaced by an unwavering _wrongness_ that Darcy knows is purely the Winter Soldier.

There aren’t many things that scare Darcy but when he steps forward she has to force her feet to remain rooted lest she sift at a supernatural speed and run like a coward. Despite the rush of adrenaline that assaults her at simply the idea of a good fight (or fuck, NO, _bad bitch_. Barton, must not forget Clint) she wills her features back into their human likeness as he reaches her position. His fingers wrap around her upper arm and if she were human she’s pretty sure the pressure of his grip would leave damage. Darcy lets him lead her through the crowd and tosses a worried looking Eddie a wink just before Barnes shoves her out into the night air. His voice is devoid of emotion and more than anything that’s what terrifies her. She worries that she’s broken him somehow and wracks her brain looking for the times she’d compelled him.

“You are going to tell me everything on your own or I will make you. Don’t make me force you.”

Darcy nods in agreement and walks quietly by his side as he leads them down the block before shoving her into an alley. He catches her before she stumbles and she hisses when his fingers dig into the veins at her wrist. She jerks her arm away from him and puts some distance between them, meeting his searing gaze as he waits for her to start talking.

“So… I’m a vampire. What you saw was kind of obvious, right? A girl’s gotta eat.”

He laughs but it’s dark and she swallows thickly, the taste of blood still coating her mouth. Dammit, she hadn’t even gotten more than a drink. It occurs to her that he may try to kill her and _fuckfuckfuck_ she can’t hurt him and apparently she can’t compel him for very long so… Up shit creek without a paddle, yep, that was where she was headed it seemed.

“How did you keep her from screaming?” His question kicks her out of her inner turmoil and back into the now and she’s a little relieved when she hears and sees a bit more of _Bucky_ than weapon. “That thing you’ve got going with the face shift isn’t for the easily frightened.”

“I compelled her to allow me to drink from her then forget. It’s how I feed…” Darcy trails off as his eyes train on her in the dark with laser like focus.

“You’ve compelled me before haven’t you?” She nods once instead of speaking and he curses, the gears in his left arm whirling as his fingers curl into a fist. He could easily rip her heart out and she suddenly wants to cry. “I’m too fucked in the head for it to stick, right?”

“You’re not fucked in the head!” She defends immediately and wills her frame not to flinch when he steps towards her, his eyes filled with a rage she’s all too familiar with but laced with a hurt that Darcy never ever wanted to see there. Her voice is quieter when she continues. “I never did it in any malicious way. Only to get you to sling an arm around Steve when he was uncomfortable, or eat when you were lost in your memories.”

“And the last time?”

“Last week when you asked me about Clint.” Darcy holds his gaze and she can feel the wetness well in her eyes. “I would never mess with you of all people, Bucky. I don’t use my abilities in the tower often. I _couldn’t_ manipulate you all like that. Ever.”

Darcy takes a step forward and her heart sinks when he retreats from her. If this is his reaction, she can only imagine the catastrophe it will bring when she tells Clint. Oh my God, Barton… Her eyes widen as realization sets in. Loki used him, got into his head (they haven’t talked about it, yet) and he compelled him to kill. The tears spill down her cheeks as a sob gets caught in her throat. She doesn’t see Bucky anymore as her whole world narrows down to a point of terror. There’s no way she can tell Clint what she is. She’s going to lose him; she is going to lose them all because she was reckless. The hesitant hand on her shoulder makes her suck in a breath and her vision refocuses on the man in front of her.

“I… _Fuck._ I’m so sorry, Bucky. Please don’t say anything to anyone, especially Barton. I was going to tell him tomorrow but I can’t. It’s impossible. I fucked up and I… _shit!_ ”

Her breath hitches in her chest when a sob claws at her throat and this wasn’t how things were supposed to go down. She steps away from the soldier who usually only had smiles for her but who now stared at her in bewilderment and distrust. She’d done that, Darcy had let herself get too comfortable and went and fucked everything up.

“It’s not my place to tell him or any of our friends.”

Bucky’s quiet words bring her up short and she stares at him in confusion, silently begging him to elaborate. She’s looking for a lifeboat before she sinks completely.

“What?”

“You heard me.” He squares his shoulders, at a parade rest as he meets her gaze head on and unafraid, the Asset all but pushed back down wherever he kept him stowed. “Now, I’m not one that should be nitpicking at somebody else’s demons and I’m sorry for how I lashed out. You just caught me off guard and you know how well that goes. But… that doesn’t mean you’re forgiven for messin’ with what little sane mind I’ve got left.”

Darcy nods rapidly, tears still streaming down her face, half from relief and the other from the knowledge that she’s still in deep water with no land in sight.

“Quit your crying I’m not gonna out you. But I am taking you back home and straight to Barton.” Darcy opens her mouth to protest and he just talks over her. “If you don’t come clean it’s going to eat at you, and yeah, I know I’m one to talk but I know firsthand, so trust me.”

She agrees even though she wants to run away as far as she can get. Bucky nods and it’s final as he turns on his heel trusting her to follow him. They walk back to the tower, the air blanketed by tension and filled with Darcy’s sniffles as she attempts to get control of her haywire emotions. It isn’t until they’re a block away from home that Barnes stops causing her to follow his lead out of habit. He turns to face her and looks down at her with an unreadable face, his emotions too jumbled for her to unravel them. She breaks the silence between them first.

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry and it’s okay if you want to hate me. I get it and I was stupid to act without thinking.”

“I don’t hate you, but I don’t have to _like_ you right now either. Just… don’t ever do that to me or any of us ever again. I don’t care if it was innocent, _don’t_. No one deserves to have their head fucked with.”

Tears roll down her cheeks and her eyes close as her head hangs, the weight of his words, her actions, falling heavily atop her shoulders making them droop like a wilted flower. His curse is sharp and suddenly there are arms wrapped tightly (tighter than usual) around her, the sob caught in her throat escaping and stifling against his chest. Darcy isn’t sure how long they stand there on the sidewalk with her crying and him holding her, but when she finally pulls back his button down is wet with her sins. Not another word is spoken between them as she dabs at her face and they set off again.

Bucky rides with her up to Barton’s floor after he gets Jarvis to make sure that he’s there. He doesn’t give her the usual encouraging smirk, nope, all Darcy gets is a nod before the doors slide closed leaving her stranded in the hall and alone. She could wait and just go back to her floor but she suspects that Barnes has Jarvis watching her, so she turns and walks slowly down the corridor to Clint’s door. Darcy feels like she’s walking to her execution and her stomach is rolling, her nerves completely shot at this point. She can hear the low chatter of a TV as she approaches and hears it pause when she raises a shaking hand up to knock.

The door opens and Darcy inhales deeply as Clint takes one look at her and frowns, reaching out, his hands automatically checking her over for injuries he won’t find. He pulls her into his apartment, the worry evident as he orders Jarvis to turn the lights up so he can see her clearly. His voice is firm but confused when he speaks.

“Darce? Baby, what’s wrong? What happened? Honey, talk to me.”

Blinking rapidly, Darcy tosses her clutch into the floor next to his entertainment center as she steps out of her heels, avoiding Barton’s gaze and questions for a moment longer. She only meets his eyes once she’s at her normal height at looking up at him. Swallowing thickly she slips out of his grasp and walks around him and towards his kitchen. He follows her and watches as she gets down a glass and fills it with tap-water, drinking it down to wash the taste of that girl’s blood out of her mouth although it doesn’t help in the slightest. Her transgressions still steep in her stomach like a hearty stew that she no longer wants. 

“We need to talk.” Her voice is a scratchy whisper and her heart cracks a little at the way Clint’s gaze hardens and his stance shifts just enough that Darcy knows that he’s preparing for something bad. It had taken her months (years) to scale some of his highest walls and she was terrified that he was about to build them higher.

“So talk. Are you alright?”

Darcy just nods and moves back into the living room, sinking down into the supple leather of his favorite recliner instead of curling up on the couch like she’d normally do. Clint eyes her warily as he settles down on the couch, his shoulders tense and she hates knowing that it’s because of her. Inhaling deeply, her breath rushes out on an exhale and with her senses full of him she breaks her own heart.

“I’m fine,” His arched eyebrow begs to differ and she shakes her head wanting to rip the proverbial band-aid off and get this over with. “Really, I am. First, I need you to know that I was stupid and I should have told you this a long time ago.”

“Told me what exactly?”

“I asked for a week before we slept together for a reason.”

“Kinda figured that one out on my own.”

“If you’d quit interrupting me you could hear the damn reason!”

Barton makes a sweeping gesture giving her the floor and Darcy can feel the apprehension vibrating through his frame from where she sits. She blows out a breath and draws a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose before continuing. She meets his gaze despite her head screaming at her to just shut the fuck up.

“I told you I needed time because I had to make sure I was ready. There are things that no one knows about me and I wanted to gather my courage. I wanted you to be the first (and only) person to know about some things but that plan was fucked tonight.”

The muscles in his jaw work as he grits his teeth and she winces because she can hear them grind together.

“I go out dancing every other Friday for more reasons than to just let off a little steam. Tonight Barnes followed me and… It wasn’t pretty.” Darcy shifts her gaze to a spot just beyond his shoulder. “You know that aliens are real considering we have one living here, and you know that there are other _things_ out there that SHIELD likes to dissect, right?” He nods quick and tersely. “I can’t really make this sound believable but I have to tell you, you need to know. I… Clint, I’m a vampire.”

She’d expected his disbelief, she had feared for the accusation that she was a liar or something other, but what Darcy had not expected was his laughter. He huffs out a laugh before it becomes a full-out peal of laughter. This time it’s her jaw that ticks as righteous anger races through her. She really doesn’t want to have to prove it to him the hard way.

“Do you sparkle, too Bella?” Clint guffaws, his body slumping back against the cushions as he continues with the stupid references. “Are you here to suck my blood? Oh, Darce, wait till I tell Nat that one. She’s been to Romania and always had a creepy fascination with that shit. Maybe you and she can take a vacation sometime!”

Darcy remains silent afraid of what she’ll say if she opens her mouth. It takes a few minutes for Clint to calm down and to _really_ glance at her. His laughter fades out and the silence that follows is anything but comfortable. He clears his throat and gives her a half-smile.

“Seriously, what’s up? Did you get in a fight with Barnes or something? Did he beat your dance partner up?”

“Are you finished acting like a child?”

“Sorry, sorry, you just really had me going for a minute there.”

“If you’re done making a joke about my kind, I’d like to finish.”

“Just how much did you drink tonight?”

She doesn’t mean to, she really doesn’t but the poking and prodding after her confrontation with Bucky is just too much for her shakily chained instincts. She’d always had a temper and it was amplified when under duress. So when her fangs drop, her vision sharpening, and a guttural growl of defense issues from her chest, she doesn’t necessarily have any intentions other than to get her point across. Clint is scrambling off the couch with wide eyes as soon as her mouth opens and the still bright lights glint off her inhumanly white teeth. She’s come to know him like the back of her hand and is out of her seat in a flash and blocking his path to his bow before he can even step in that direction.

“Jarvis, privacy protocol, _now_.” Darcy hisses as the archer looks her up and down, assessing her as a threat instead of his girlfriend. If she wasn’t so filled with fury by _everything_ she might have heard her heart fracturing that much further.

“I apologize, Miss Darcy but only Agent Barton can enforce the privacy protocol in his place of residence.”

It takes everything in Darcy not to growl again in frustration. Can she not have anything go her way tonight? Jesus, help her she needed a break. “Fine.” She says, her gaze remaining on Barton. Her head cants to the side audibly popping her neck satisfyingly as she gets a grip on her features, feeling them shift and return back to normal. Clint watches on with thinly veiled disgust? Fascination? She doesn’t know which; his emotions are all over the place at the moment. Darcy tries the easy route, again.

“I’m not a threat so can you just stand the fuck down? Yes, I know I’m hideous and if you’ll please tell J to cut off the feeds and sit back down I’ll be more than happy to explain myself like I was trying to do to begin with.”

Clint stares at her for a long moment, his breath shallow as he weighs his options. At this point Darcy wouldn’t be surprised if he just told her to get the hell out and not come back. And she’d do it, too. Even though she’d have the fucking Avengers hunting her down probably, she’d do it just to prove a damn point.

“Do it, Jarvis.”

“Consider it done, Agent Barton.”

Darcy blinks at him in shock and grabs onto the tiny seed of hope that takes root in her stomach. He walks backwards until his hip hits the back of the couch, unwilling to let her out of his sight and she raises her hands in a placating manner, following him. Darcy hopes for the best as she drags her gaze away from his and returns to her seat in the recliner. Clint remains standing, his arms folding across his chest with the couch between them and it _hurts_. The feeling creeps back into her system as the anger dissipates just as quickly as it arose and Darcy’s heart aches at how he looks down on her from where he stands.

“So talk.” This time when he says it, it’s clipped and short and Darcy knows an order when she hears one.

“I was twenty three when I was killed and no I don’t know the exact year it happened but it was in the last decade of the 1800’s. I only know that because of some friends that I met back then. Well, not really friends, I got in the way of a feud and was collateral damage. It’s a really long and confusing story so I won’t go into details.” Darcy takes a resetting breath, unable to meet Barton’s hard gaze as she continues. “Anyway, I’m older than our resident super soldiers and—“

“How do you eat?”

“You’ve seen me eat before, Barton.”

“Do you really want to fuck with me right now?”

“Shit, okay, I feed like any smart vampire does. And before you ask, yes, I’ve killed... My friend can be very volatile and since he’s the one that sort of schooled me and his brother was all Ripperfied for a while, it seemed the lesser of two evils. But I stopped doing stupid shit a long time ago. I can’t physically grow any older but my mind is very much developed and I got smarter with the decades.”

“You still didn’t answer my question, Lewis.”

She flinches at the use of her last name in the place of where a pet name should be. “We have the ability to compel people into doing what we want. I go clubbing, pick a partner and compel them then feed from them. It doesn’t hurt them as long as I don’t drink too much. I learned to stagger my meal to keep from hurting anyone and it’s always in a safe space.”

“What about when you’re here?”

“I have a small fridge in my closet that I keep blood bags in, _no_ I don’t steal them. There are different factions of vampires all over New York and I have connections, or my maker does. We don’t talk about it.”

“So let me get this straight; my girlfriend is a vampire, an honest to God vampire like those on that show on HBO you make me watch—“

“That show is bullshit, I only watch it to laugh at how cracky it is.”

“I wasn’t finished. Not only do you _drink blood_ , you’re over a hundred years old and you brainwash people for a snack. Have I missed anything?”

“We do burn in the sun; it’s why we have these nifty things called daylight rings. They’re spelled by a certain line of witches.” She waves her left hand at him where hers sits on her middle finger. “I’m about 87% sure that Barnes wants to see what happens when I get shot and… I am 99.9% positive that I’ve fallen in love with you.”

His “ _Fuck!_ ” is harsh in spite of her soft confession and Darcy sighs, exhaustion making itself known. She slumps back into the recliner closing her eyes, listening as he vaults over the back of the couch and lands with a quiet thump onto the end farthest away from her. Feeling his gaze on her, Darcy opens her eyes and meets his.

“Have you ever _compelled_ me?”

“No.”

“Who, then?”

“Barnes a few times, Jane, and Tony once when he was really getting on my nerves. It didn’t stick with Bucky, though because of whatever Hydra did to him. When he caught me earlier my guess is that it triggered his memories or something and he added two and two together.”

“Did he hurt you?” The question is quiet and she tries really hard not to look too far into it.

“No, but the Winter Soldier made a brief appearance. You don’t have to worry if that’s what you’re getting at, though. I would never hurt him or anyone for that matter. I try to keep the violence to the bare minimum. Drawing attention isn’t a smart thing to do in my position.”

He nods and she can practically hear the wheels turning in his head so she gets slowly to her feet. She really doesn’t want to get shot with an arrow (that shit hurts) when he files her into the same category as Loki. Besides, she’s had enough storytelling for the night.

“That’s everything important I guess… I was going to tell you this tomorrow but Bucky happened.” Darcy shrugs tiredly and turns her back on him to gather her shoes and her clutch. He doesn’t move from his spot and when she turns around he’s staring up at the ceiling instead of at her. She has to inhale deeply just to find her words. “I know it’s a lot to take in all at once and I’m sorry for springing it on you like that. I’ll give you space, I need sleep anyway, I’m exhausted. I… I’ll understand if you want me to go. But I’m asking you not to mention anything to anyone else. It’s my secret to keep and I don’t want to ruin anyone else’s view of me. Two in one night is more than enough. Anyway, I’m rambling I know, sorry.”

Her hand turns the doorknob but she stops, squeezing her eyes closed as words that are quiet and welling up directly from her cracked and fragile heart spill from her lips. “I do love you, Clint, more than I knew I was capable of.” Not waiting for him to speak even though she knows he won’t, Darcy is out the door and pulling it to with a deafening _snick_.

 

*

 

Saturday and Sunday are spent wallowing in her failures and watching mindless TV. It’s her go-to response in a crisis. Once upon a time she would have fled, went on a drinking binge that would make certain people proud and others scowl at her in disappointment, but those days are long gone. Now Darcy hides away in her tower like a fucking princess, the only thing is that in this scenario she’s the monster and not the damsel although she is in distress. Fucking Disney.

Monday is rainy and dreary and Darcy feels like Thor has tuned into her mood and adjusted the weather just for her. She goes to work with a thermos of blood clutched in her hand and a clear ‘fuck off’ vibe swirling around her person. Jane, bless her, doesn’t ask her any questions, just nods at her and goes back to whatever she’s scribbling in her chicken scratch. The SI cleared interns and assistants that filter in and out of the lab throughout the day give her a wide berth; and so her week goes. No one stops by her desk and asks her to lunch, she doesn’t see hide nor hair of Barton or Barnes. Darcy avoids the communal floor and only speaks in grunts and bitten off words to any one who does risk speaking to her, and by Thursday she looks like she feels; worn down and five feet from the deep end.

That night she makes the mistake of getting absolutely wasted, ending up splayed out on her kitchen floor and dialing a number that (luckily) goes to voicemail. She rambles on anyway in excruciating detail of just how big of a fuckup she is. The recorder eventually cuts her off. She leaves three more messages until she’s curled up in a ball and sobbing into the tile and can’t see to dial anymore. That’s where she falls asleep like the wreck that she is. Darcy sleeps through her alarm the next morning, ignores the shrill ring of her phone and sends the device sailing through the air before pulling herself up out of the floor. Everything is a blur as she manages to get down a blood bag before climbing into her bed and pulling the covers completely over her head, her nearly empty bottle of bourbon on her nightstand in her phone’s place.

It takes the covers being violently ripped from her, baring her to the dim light of the world she’d been successfully avoiding to wake Darcy. She isn’t sure how long she slept or even what day it is but by the empty liquor bottle that’s on its side by her thankfully closed closet door (and she can only imagine how much of her supply she exhausted while shitfaced), she’s guessing it isn’t Thursday anymore. Irked by the disruption of her pity party of one, she cracks an eye open and groans as her vision focuses. Natasha looks equal parts disgusted and irate and Darcy just wants to go back to sleep instead of facing Clint’s deadly ex.

“You are disgusting.”

“Thanks for the update. Can I have my covers back now?”

“You are going to get up and go take a shower, and don’t make me use force, Darcy. You won’t like it.”

“Seriously, what the fuck is it with you assassins and threatening me? Fuck off, Nat.”

“Excuse me?” Her frame stills like a cobra right before it strikes. Darcy would normally be motivated into action but she’s in her underwear and a sports bra, hungover, and kinda _hungry_ … Not a great combination.

“I’m not leaving this bedroom today. I’m not leaving this bed, actually. I’m taking a vacation so just leave me alone. I’ll crawl back out eventually.”

Natasha doesn’t say anything. She stares intently at Darcy before turning on her heel and leaving Darcy alone. Mission accomplished, she buries her head under her pillow in the absence of her blankets and closes her eyes with a sigh. Darcy almost drifts back to sleep when her pillow is ripped out of her grasp and before she can growl in protest arms scoop her up and toss her over a hard shoulder. She squeaks in humiliation as the metal arm banded around her thighs under her butt flexes and bites angrily into her skin.

From the angle by which she hangs, she misses the smug look on Natasha’s face as they pass the living room with Darcy cursing them both with every breath. One minute she’s a sack of potatoes and the next she’s sputtering as the spray from her own shower hits her right in the face. The fucker dumped her in the shower without uttering a single syllable and left without a backwards glance. Darcy does growl then, loud enough that they’ll no doubt hear it and she doesn’t give a damn if she’s being petulant. She wasn’t hurting anyone and they think they can just burst into her home and order her around? It’s fucking stupid is what it is.

Stripping out of her now soaked underwear she tosses them along with her bra into the sink and yanks the shower curtain closed. Darcy takes her own sweet time hoping against hope that they’ll be gone when she emerges but it’s to no avail. Steam billows out behind her as she clutches her towel around her, casting a glare at the two assassins that look oh-so cozy in her kitchen. Natasha even has the gall to wave at her with a smirk and Darcy huffs, stomping off back into her bedroom, slamming the door with a little too much force but the resounding boom is worth it. Slipping into her closet first thing, she quietly shuts the door and inspects her stash, breathing out in relief when only a couple bags are lying empty atop her shoes. She has a quick drink before she gets dressed; yoga pants and a t-shirt making her feel a little better. (She won’t admit that the shower had helped, too. Nope, never. Fucking assholes.)

With her thirst sated for the time being, Darcy digs down a little deeper than she normally has to and girds her loins so to speak. Stepping out of her bedroom she ignores the other two people and makes a beeline for the coffee. She may be a vampire but she’d acquired a wicked coffee addiction back in the seventies that she’d never been able to shake. It was her security blanket, gave her something to grasp when she lost sight of reality, or her control.

“So, let’s see it.”

Darcy’s head whips around to stare at Natasha and at the red head’s impatient look Darcy turns her gaze on Barnes. He meets her eyes squarely and shrugs when she glares at him in irritation. Was this her punishment? He’d run and tattled and now they wanted show and tell with the resident freak?

“You _told_ her after I asked you not to?”

“Would you rather that I tell Steve or Natalia?”

Cursing under her breath Darcy turns her back on them and sits her full mug back onto the counter, curling her hands over the edge as she lets her chin drop to her chest. Steve would be furious especially when he found out about her compelling Barnes, there wasn’t going to be a way around that one. Natasha probably wanted to kill her for the same reason and bring her back just to do it again if she already knew about Clint. Darcy wishes that the ground would open up right there in her kitchen and swallow her whole. She was ruined now no matter who knew. Inhaling deeply, Darcy swallows down her rising panic and turns back around to the two expectant assassins.

“Will you leave if I play along?”

“After breakfast, I’m fucking starved.”

She rolls her eyes at Bucky before ticking her gaze to Nat. Meeting her eyes and blowing out a breath, Darcy trails her gaze over the woman’s features and zeros in on the steady pulse that beats in her neck. Her vision sharpens as her face seamlessly shifts to her true nature, lips parting when her fangs elongate satisfyingly. Dragging her attention away from the temptation of a fresh breakfast Darcy’s gaze slides back up to her eyes that are a little wide for the unshakable Widow. She has to bite back a snarky comment, opting to glance at Barnes instead where she really can’t help sliding the tip of her tongue across her dangerously pointy canines. His pulse jumps and his heart stutters for a fraction of a second causing Darcy to squeeze her lids closed forcing the shift back down, blinking rapidly and again human when she opens them back.

“Okay, that’s enough show and tell for today. Eat your food and get out of my apartment.” Darcy turns back to her coffee and takes a second to herself as she sips at the bitter liquid, once again locking down the bitch that is pissed at being tempted like that and left wanting.

“You’re eating with us so sit your ass down.”

Sighing, Darcy skirts around Natasha and steers clear of Barnes going to her tiny four-seater table and sinking down with her coffee in hand.

“I spoke to Jane this morning.”

“Shit.”

“Oh yeah, you’re in trouble, doll.”

Nat shoots a pointed look at Bucky and he makes a face at her like a five year old brat. Darcy watches them as the fiery woman cooks them breakfast and the super soldier steals food when he thinks she isn’t looking. It’s so domestic and routine that Darcy would normally be all happy-go-lucky but the burning in her gut holds her back.

“She was worried about you, has been since you’ve been ‘out of character’ all week. And, when you missed work this morning and all of our calls went unanswered, I offered to come check on you.” Natasha glances at her, pointing the spatula she’s using to scramble eggs in her direction. “Smart of you to turn on your privacy protocols before getting drunk, Jarvis wouldn’t tell us anything. Tony had to use his override just to get me in here.”

Darcy slumps further down in her chair.

“Of course I had a little talk with James when Clint absolutely refused to divulge any information before I trekked up here.” Barnes snorts and steals a piece of bacon when Nat’s back is turned. “Now, I need you to understand something, Darcy. Under any other circumstances I would have came alone, and I did try if you’ll remember and you told me to fuck off. But I digress, I know you want us to believe that you aren’t a threat and so far you aren’t…”

She flips the dial on the stovetop before turning to face Darcy, her arms sliding across her chest in a seemingly bored stance. But Darcy knows it’s all appearance, she probably did her homework and could take Darcy out before she could get in a well placed blow (or her teeth near her throat). God, had it come to this? She was assessing them as prey now? What fucked up world had she created with her pretending?

“Bruce will always be a threat even when he’s docile and the Hulk is lying in wait. James will remain a threat. Thor is a threat considering there’s no possible way to know if his brother is in play or not. Every person on our team is some kind of threat; trained assassins, paranoid genius with PTSD, a protective super soldier out of his time… Can you see the picture I’m painting here?”

Darcy nods slowly, gulping down a mouthful of coffee, anything to keep from looking at them. Her eyes remain trained on the ugly orange surface of her table that she’d found at a flea-market. Sam had helped her shop that day and _fuck_ , she didn’t want to be a chink in this team’s armor. She didn’t want to be a threat to her friends, but she knew she was. It’s who she was no matter how much she tried to ignore it. She startles when Bucky sits down across from her and snatches her coffee away making her look up at him.

“We all are fucked in the head, some worse than others, but we’re together. I sound like my damn therapist and wouldn’t Stevie be proud. But, Darcy, you’ve got to stop hiding, you’re spiraling. And you _know_ how that ends up.” She swallows thickly and ignores the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks. What was up with her and crying in front of Barnes here lately? Dude.

Natasha chooses that moment to sit plates stacked with eggs, bacon, toast, and hash browns down before slipping around the table and settling between her and Bucky. He starts filling up his plate as Nat takes up the conversation. She grabs her coffee back from him and reluctantly fills up her own plate.

“Going with what he said, this evening we’re having movie night at Stark’s insistence and you’re coming.” She cuts off Darcy’s protests with a terrifying gaze. “And _we_ will help you tell the others. This is our home and we all deserve to know who is living under our roof. It isn’t fair that you know of our secrets and you’re hiding your own. So, tonight you’ll tell the others. I’m going to talk to Barton after breakfast and you have no excuses not to.”

With that Darcy has no say in the matter and honestly? Although she is absolutely terrified she knows that they’re right. The rest of breakfast is quiet but not totally uncomfortable to Darcy’s surprise. Bucky informs her that he intends to keep Steve calm and that he gets her ‘decapitation by shield’ joke now. She answers a few questions that they have and is a little wide-eyed by the time they leave her with threats that if she tries to leave they’ll know. She spends the remainder of the day fidgeting and nervous, worrying the ring on her left hand and wishing not for the first time that she had one of her old friends with her.

All too soon seven rolls around and Darcy makes her way out of her apartment and to the communal floor. She’s hesitant to enter but Natasha gives her a stern look that pushes her feet over the threshold. Everyone is happy to see her (except Barton that keeps his distance and she wants to _crumble_ ), making sure she’s alright since she’d given them a little scare. She laughs despite herself at that definition, oh the irony. With bowls of popcorn and bags of chips, an array of junk food, really, they settle down for the movie. Darcy sits in the floor well away from the others with her back pressed against Jane’s legs and feeling small.

During the last few minutes of the movie Natasha excuses herself and a frown furrows Darcy’s brows as she watches her go. She doesn’t think she’d desert her but her gut churns with unease. Barnes catches her gaze where he’s all snugged up to Steve’s side across the room and actually _winks_ at her. Since he found out about her she hadn’t expected him to slip so quickly back into their usual blatant flirtation and the gesture catches her off guard. It makes her grin out of habit and she feels another set of eyes on her. The grin fades quickly as she meets Clint’s gaze.

“Well, that movie was a flop!” Tony’s declaration jars her attention from the staring contest and she drops her eyes to the floor.

“It was kind of vulgar.”

“Like you don’t cuss like a sailor, Cap. You can’t fool me.”

Darcy tunes them out, her nerves crawling with dread and Barton’s unreadable gaze seared into her mind. The lights get turned back on as they begin to disperse, stretching from their positions and preparing to call it a night. She doesn’t know when she slipped back in but all at once Natasha is there toeing her thigh and motioning her up. Darcy stands and notices that Steve looks a little concerned as Bucky pats his shoulder then moves over to where they stand. Darcy, flanked by two of the world’s deadliest assassins clears her throat and stares at out the window as Nat gets everyone’s attention.

“Just a minute, Darcy needs to talk to us.”

“Everything alright?”

“I swear I did not eat the last pop-tart, Lady Darcy.”

“Uh oh, Hawkeye done went and got her—OW! What the hell, Pep?!”

Darcy looks from Steve’s confused face to Thor’s earnest eyes, avoiding Clint’s all together. She inhales deeply and at the brush of metal against her right wrist, she knows she can do this. Throwing caution to the wind she disobeys everything she’d been taught and outs herself.

“There are aliens, you’ve fought witches, and I know that with SHIELD’s secrets dumped you know there are more things that go bump in the night. Well, there’s really no easy way to say this but, I am one. Of those things. I go bump in the night…”

“You’re gonna hav’ta do better than that, doll.” Bucky’s words are a mere ghost of breath across her ear and she debates just subjecting them to her secret abruptly like she did Clint. But that would probably be a bad idea what with Bruce standing awkwardly next to Tony and all. So Darcy scans her gaze over her friends and goes with the one thing that always hides her from the world; humor.

“Hi, I’m Darcy Lewis. I am 150-some years give or take old, and I’m a vampire.”

The room is so quiet that Darcy can pinpoint each person’s heartbeat and it makes her mouth water. There’s a minute wave of fear from Steve’s direction no doubt because Bucky is by _her_ side and that little hint of fear is all it takes for the bitch to claw her way to the surface. They gasp as a collective as her features change and Steve takes a menacing step towards her and his partner but stops abruptly when she fixes her gaze on him. Darcy has to fist her hands at her sides and close her eyes before she can take another breath. Bucky whispers soothingly to the Cap as he steps away from Darcy leaving her in Natasha’s hands if need be. However the shock is broken when Tony yelps in something that sounds suspiciously like victory. Darcy’s eyes snap open and focus on him.

“I knew it! Pay up, Brucie!”

All eyes swing comically from Darcy to a gyrating Tony as Bruce sighs and pulls a twenty out of his wallet and shoves it into Tony’s grabbing hands.

“You betted on me?”

“You bet your sweet ass I did!” Stark turns around waving the bill like a flag and grinning widely at her. “I _knew_ there was no way you made it into that club on your rack alone. And that pap that tried to get to me and Pepper when you went to lunch with us that day? And my damn security guy when you were too drunk to remember your ID? Really, that’s just sloppy. Come on, tell me how you do it!”

“You… you’re not scared of me?”

“We live with Bruce and the rest of these guys, sorry, Nat, and you think a little fang is going to scare _me_? Lewis, I flew into a _wormhole_.”

“Point taken…”

“Wait a second, so those legends are true?” Pepper raises a perfectly sculpted brow at Darcy when she shrugs.

“Son of a bitch.” Steve breathes out, his gaze ping-ponging between Bucky and Darcy like he’s having trouble figuring out whom to glare at first. “Back… back then, it was real, then?” At Barnes’ nod Darcy shoots him a confused look that promises danger if he doesn’t elaborate.

“We may have encountered someone like you back in the war… before, ya know. I had my suspicions and wasn’t sure till I followed you out dancin’. Sure’nuff, you slotted my memory right back into place. Don’t outright remember much but she had dark curly hair like yours, too, didn’t speak a lick of English, but when we found her she was attached to someone’s neck. Little imp fled before we could figure out what the hell happened, though.”

If it’s at all possible Darcy pales because she knows exactly who Bucky ran into and oh shit, she could have lost them both before she ever met them. What the hell was happening to her life? Fate is such a fickle bitch and thinks she’s so damn funny. Darcy finds herself sitting down hard on the end of the couch and fighting back tears. She doesn’t understand how they can all just be okay with her secret. Well, almost everyone, Barton still hadn’t said a word.

Everyone talks amongst themselves after that and she answers any questions they have to the best of her ability. Steve gets a little upset and Bucky has to calm him down when she explains the compelling part. Jane, she’s a fucking saint because she wraps Darcy up in a tight hug and tells her she doesn’t care if she’s a ‘fucking unicorn that shits rainbows’ she’ll always love her. Darcy does cry at that and Natasha pushes tissues into her hand along with a bag of O-neg. Damn spy. No one bats an eye as she sips at the crimson liquid and it’s a little surreal. One by one they slowly trickle out as Darcy talks, listens to Thor spin tales of beings on Asgard similar to her kind before Jane drags him to bed, and sometime Clint slips out without her noticing. That night Darcy goes to bed feeling lighter but heavy at the same time. They accepted her but the one person she wanted to had remained stoic. Sleep is fitful and Darcy wonders what’s going on in Clint’s head.

 

*

 

His girlfriend is a vampire. It sounds like a fucking bad sitcom title but it’s his reality. Clint can’t really wrap his head around it after that first night. Then when she tells everyone else and they ooh and aaah over her, he hates it. He hates it because he’s not standing in Barnes’ place by her side. He should be the one holding her hand through this but instead he’s being, how had Tasha phrased it? Oh, right, a ‘Grade-A Dick.’

He’d slipped out when Darcy was smiling at something Thor was saying and went straight to the roof. His chest hurt because she was fucking beautiful and she was _his_ but he was playing hard to get. And she’d told him she loved him if that isn’t the kicker. He could have her in his arms in a split second but he was letting his stubborn nature get the best of him. It wasn’t that what she was freaked him out or anything, hell no, he was in the fucking circus, get real. Clint would like to state that he blames his behavior completely on Loki. If his head had never been fucked with, if he’d never killed his own people, oh, he could drown in the ‘ifs’.

Darcy said that she’d never fucked with his mind but she _had_ fucked with Bucky’s. That little slip of a woman had compelled the fucking Winter Soldier. If she could do that with him, Clint worried that she’d what? Use him? Hell, he didn’t know. He’d been thinking in circles ever since she’d growled at him and kept him away from his bow. Honestly, he didn’t have the slightest idea what to do. Natasha’s ‘pep talk’ had only hurt his head and forced him to go to that spectacle tonight, so… yeah, he was at a loss. He doubted he’d get much sleep but it wouldn’t hurt to try, so he went back inside and headed towards his apartment. Maybe the light of day would help him make a decision because leaving them both hanging wasn’t helping anyone.

 

*

 

Saturday morning found Darcy back in the communal kitchen cooking breakfast and joking tentatively with Steve and Bruce as she swatted at Bucky for trying to steal food. Damn bacon thief. She’d woken up that morning with a heavy sigh and a new determination to keep going. If the others wanted her there, she wouldn’t leave just because Clint couldn’t accept her for what she is. Mind made up she’d taken a quick shower, dressed in black yoga pants, a well worn Led Zeppelin T-shirt, dried her hair and left it to curl however it wanted before heading to the communal floor.

It’s just like every Saturday with the team drifting in, their noses leading them to the food, and even Clint joins them. He sits three seats away from Darcy with Steve and Bucky between them, she calls it progress. Jane is half-asleep and inhaling her coffee to Darcy’s left and she thinks everything might just be okay. No one seems to treat her any differently and Darcy feels a little bit of the tension on her shoulders lift. She’s just taking a bite of bacon and having a glaring contest with Barnes where his metal fingers edge closer to the last three pieces when Jarvis interrupts them.

“Forgive me for the interruption, Sir.”

“What’s up, J?”

“Actually, Sir this concerns Miss Darcy.” Tony arches a brow in her direction and she sticks her tongue out at him before answering.

“Yes, J-Man, what can I do for you this lovely morning?”

“It would appear that there are two gentlemen in the lobby asking for you. One is rather… adamant that he speak with you.”

Darcy’s eyes widen just a titch and she swallows slowly, her head tilting back and eyes gazing unseeingly at the ceiling. Her voice is soft when she responds. “Is the ‘adamant’ one by any chance wearing a leather jacket?”

“So it would seem, Miss.”

“ _Fuck!”_ Darcy mutters and pushes back from the table slowly, ignoring all of the curious gazes around the table. She tosses her napkin down and doesn’t waste a second with explanations, instead she uses supernatural speed and is at the elevator before anyone can say a damn word. “J, take me down and make it _quick_.” He doesn’t bother replying and just does. Unfortunately for Darcy she hears Tony’s “Oh, I think we should watch this!” right before the doors slide closed. _Crapcrapcrap_ , is the mantra she whispers as the floors tick down.

Cautious of the humans in the lobby that are stupid enough to work on a Saturday, Darcy doesn’t fly from the elevator, more like she runs at a boringly human pace. When she rounds the corner her stomach does a happy little flip-flop and she couldn’t wipe the grin from her face if she tried. Just hanging out by the reception desk stands her maker and his brother looking like they have all the time in the world. She takes a running leap and doesn’t care who’s watching.

“Darcy, Darcy, Darcy! Boy aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” Darcy collides with his chest, arms banding around his neck as his go around her waist, her eyes welling up with tears when he squeezes her. She laughs a watery laugh when he nuzzles her neck with an appreciative growl. Pulling back, Darcy grins at his bright blue eyes and sly smirk and feels like she can breathe for the first time in days.

“Damon, you fucker, why are you in New York?”

“Bonding with my brother, of course.”

“I resent that and quit hogging her for God’s sake.”

Darcy laughs easily, smacking a loud kiss right to Damon’s grinning lips before shoving him away and making grabby hands at Stefan, his adorable smile easing some of her anxiety. Where Damon’s hugs are tight and perfect, Stefan’s are warm and mending. He presses a feather-light kiss against her brow and Darcy realizes that she’d missed them more than she’d thought. When she pulls back he grins at her and she has to wipe at her eyes as she takes a step away to take them in.

“You live in this joint? Does it come with a bar?” Damon waggles his brows at her and she rolls her eyes at him.

“Yes, I live here and it might. Come on, let’s get out of the damn lobby. You interrupted my breakfast.”

“Was it a he or a she? Did you save me some?” Damon stage whispers and Stefan shoots him a warning look.

“You’re stupid, of course I didn’t and it was bacon, bitch.”

“Aw, man! You ate all the bacon?”

“Uh, guys…” Both Damon and Darcy glance at Stefan and he points at a spot over Darcy’s shoulder. “Is that the welcome wagon?”

Darcy spins around and her gaze widens as she’s greeted with the sight of Barton, Barnes, and Thor making their way across the lobby. None of them are smiling and look intimidating as hell. Thor even has Mew-Mew in his left hand and _shit_ this could go very wrong. She quickly turns back to Damon and Stefan and whispers harshly; “Absolutely NO eating or killing. I mean it, D.”

To that Damon simply grins and gives the men a little jaunty finger wave as he leans down to whisper in Darcy’s ear. “And just which one fueled your little drunk dial that made me drive all the way here? I want to not-eat him first.” Stefan, despite his seemingly innocent grace snorts and tries to cover it up with a cough.

“Damon Salvatore I will hurt you.”

“Kinky…You promise? Hello, gentlemen!”

She pivots coming face to face with Thor’s chest, they’re that close. Darcy doesn’t know if she should laugh hysterically or groan at the testosterone that’s being put on display. She does a little of both and effectively steps on Damon’s toes making him and Stefan step back some leaving her in the middle.

“Thor, buddy, down boy!” Darcy laughs a bit and clears her throat glancing between her friends. “Guys, this is Damon Salvatore as you heard and his brother Stefan. Dudes, this big guy is Thor,” he actually waves with Mew-Mew and it’s tragically hilarious that this is her life. “To his left is Sgt. Barnes, and on his right is Agent Barton. And you all know who I am!”

“It’s a pleasure to meet fellow friends of Lady Darcy.” Bless his heart, Thor is at least _trying_ to play nice. She probably has Jane to thank for that.

“Likewise,” Stefan thankfully cuts off whatever Damon had opened his mouth to say. “We ah didn’t mean to interrupt your morning. We just wanted to check up on Darcy.”

“How thoughtful.” Bucky states and Darcy just might pull her hair out. Tired of the pissing contest, she spins around facing Damon and Stefan for the moment.

“Are you staying tonight? I have a couch and a guest room if you want to.”

They trade a look and Stefan shrugs, fishing his phone out of his pocket as Damon grins at her. “Sure, haven’t seen Eddie in a while. We’ll just go get our shit and call the ole ball and chains while you work your magic.” With that he gives her a wink and lets Stefan usher him backwards towards the exit. Warm fingers wrap around her arm and spin her back around to face the ‘welcome wagon’.

“Who the _fuck_ are they, Darce?”

She’s so giddy that Clint didn’t use her last name and is touching her that she doesn’t even notice that Bucky and Thor are on their way back to the elevators. Darcy meets Barton’s gaze and just stares like an idiot. That is until Damon’s little “Ah-ha!” reaches her ears and jolts her out of her haze. God, she misses kissing Clint.

“I told you who they are!” Darcy tries to out stare Clint but breaks after a measly ten seconds. “Okay, so I might have gotten a little drunk Thursday night and left Damon a few bourbon colored messages…”

“You kissed him.”

“He’s my sire although that never actually worked for us. It’s a weird story. And I’d rather kiss you!” Her eyes widen and she squeaks out; “Fuck, I did not mean to say that out loud.”

“We need to talk later.”

“ _Nonono_ , don’t say that, that’s like writing a death sentence for a relationship.”

“Darce, shut up.”

“Right, shutting up now.” Darcy sighs as his thumb glides along the skin of her arm and just goes back to staring at him. But he lets her go after a second and shakes his head as he takes a step back.

“You have guests so entertain them. I’ll find you later. If you need anything…”

Darcy just nods and Clint nods and there’s quite a bit of mutual nodding before he turns and heads back towards where he came from. The fact that his bow is adorning his back makes Darcy huff out a laugh and sag in relief. At least she knows that he doesn’t hate her. That’s something, right?

 

*

 

“I’m serious, Stark, I will drain and drop you if you—“

“Come on! I just want to know the details, the deets, all of the dirty, nasty details!”

“Natasha, please take care of my light work?”

“I’d suggest that you eat him but I bet he tastes like self-righteousness and metal. Doesn’t sound too appetizing.”

“I’ll have you know that I taste like expensive liquor and utter male perfection!”

Darcy and Nat share a look before they both burst out into laughter. Darcy aims a throw pillow at Tony’s head and hits him square in the face leaving him sputtering as she unfolds from the couch and shoots him a grin. Natasha smirks while Tony continues to mouth off, prying for information about Darcy’s sleepover occupants.

“Not gonna happen, Iron Dude. Some things just aren’t meant to see the light of day. And in all seriousness and for your own safety, don’t attempt to dig into their lives. Damon has issues, and I use the term lightly, with nosey people.”

“Oh please, we all have issues, Elvira.”

“I mean it! Just don’t. I don’t want to give Pepper a reason to take up whittling.” Giving him a glare she points a threatening finger at him. “And on that note, I’ve gotta go. Play nice.”

Natasha winks at Darcy and Tony just glares right back at her until she turns on her sock encased heels and leaves. She’s anxious as hell and really not above using Stark’s annoying face as a reason to retreat back to her apartment. After Damon and Stefan had gotten their overnight bags in, they’d spent the day playing ‘meet the other Avengers’ and catching up. Bruce and Stefan had even helped her cook for everyone and it’d been surprisingly easy going. Barton even laughed a few times and struck up a conversation with Stefan.

Once supper was over and Steve (as usual) shooed her from the kitchen, Damon and Stefan had taken off to go see their buddy Eddie and get a little ‘after dinner mint’. She’d remained in the communal lounge flipping channels and listening to Tony’s mouth. But a girl could only take so much of that (seriously, how did Pepper put up with him?). When Darcy steps from the elevator into the hall on her floor it’s to find Barton leaning against the wall by her door like some sexy lurker. Her stomach does a summersault as his eyes train on her.

“You could have text me and let me know you were up here.”

“I’ve only been here about three minutes and Jarvis told me you were coming.”

“Oh… you want some coffee or a beer?”

“Sure.” Clint shrugs and pushes away from the wall as Darcy nears, her door clicking open (thank you, J.) once she arrives. He follows a few steps behind and Darcy ignores the way the hair on the nape of her neck stands on end with his proximity. She leaves him in the living room and goes straight to the fridge and pulls out a couple of his favorite bottles before retracing his steps. Their fingers brush when she hands him the bottle and Darcy bites the inside of her cheek to keep from grabbing him and drawing him closer like she wants to do. They both settle onto opposite ends of her couch and open their drinks with practiced motions. She’d call it awkward as hell but she’s just glad that he’s _there_.

“So, I guess we need to talk.” Darcy swallows her swig of beer and nods, tucking her legs up under her ass and angles to face him. He sits his bottle down on her coffee table and takes a deep breath before continuing. “I’m sorry for how I reacted the other night…”

“Don’t be, it was big news and you had every right to freak the fuck out. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“As you should be,” He actually gives her a small smile and Darcy huffs out a quiet laugh. “I was just caught off guard. My… my girlfriend tells me she’s a vampire and I wasn’t expecting it.”

“First off, I’m your girlfriend, now? And secondly why didn’t you talk to me for a week? Did it really freak you out that bad?”

“Aren’t I the one supposed to be talking right now?” Darcy mimes zipping her lips and gives him a thumbs up, letting her hands fall back into her lap. “Yes? Maybe, I mean if you want, we never got around to sticking a name on this… And no, it wasn’t that you freaked me out. Okay? I don’t get squicked easily, I was just worried…”

Darcy watches his jaw work as he searches for words and she swallows thickly when he finds them.

“Since the thing with Loki, not much could shake me, I guess. What threw me off was the whole mind control thing. That’s a sore spot for me because of that bastard and it scares me to be honest. This _entire_ thing scares me, Darcy. But I know I was a dick about it and you didn’t deserve that. So I’m sorry…”

Her eyes are watery as she drops her gaze down to the cushions that separates them, her voice quiet when she speaks. “Don’t be sorry, Clint. You’re the one that doesn’t deserve this shit. And that’s what my life is; it’s drama and bloodshed and shit sometimes. I shouldn’t have dragged you into it but I was reckless and lost sight of everything. And I promise you that I’ve never compelled you and I wouldn’t, not even if you asked me to.”

“I don’t know,” his laugh is short as he glances at her with an arched brow. “There are a few experiences that I’d like to forget, maybe we can discuss this later on.”

“There’s going to be a later on?”

“If you can put up with my stubborn ass, yeah, I think I can handle yours.”

In a blink Darcy is across the couch and crawling into his lap and his chuckle is rich and music to her ears. His arms wrap securely around her when she rests her head in that crook of his shoulder and neck that was made just for her. Darcy wedges an arm around his side and back and just clings, taking in heady inhales of his scent as the last of her anxiety melts away. Clint’s cheek rests warmly against the top of her head and they sit there for countless minutes just soaking up each other’s affection.

“How long are those guys going to be out?”

Darcy pulls away just enough to meet Clint’s gaze and makes a face at him. “Shit, I forgot they were here. Whoops. They should be back in a few, Stefan doesn’t really like crowds and Damon will have to eventually call Elena, again.”

“Elena?”

“Damon’s girlfriend. Remind me to tell you _that_ story some day when you have a few hours free. It’s long and messy.” Clint hums in response then presses his lips against hers making her pause for a fraction of a second before rearranging her position so that she’s straddling his thighs with her arms looped loosely around his neck.

“Is it just me or did all of this seem really anticlimactic? I mean you just found out I’m a vampire, everyone did and you all are just like okay with it. I kinda miss the pitchfork mob days.”

“We’re all monsters, baby.”

“Was that your not-so-subtle way of telling me you have a monster cock?”

Barton makes a noise caught somewhere between a groan and a laugh and drops his forehead onto her shoulder, his hands slipping around her sides and up either side of her spine. Darcy arches into his hands which pushes her breasts out and she hears his heart stutter. It makes her feel deliciously decadent.

“You’re so fucking crazy.”

“You should see me drunk.”

“I have, you tried to give me a lap dance with Steve and Bucky in the room.”

Darcy groans this time and sinks her fingers into his hair, _pulling_ him back with just the right amount of bite. (Ha, bite… oh, now there’s an idea. Bad Bitch! Shhh.) He meets her gaze and she gives him sly grin before licking her lips and letting her fangs drop. His eyes widen and he goes still under her but Darcy doesn’t miss the way his pulse jumps and his cock twitches under her ass. Her tongue traces slowly over the points before she sheathes them and arches an eyebrow at him. Barton surges forward and fuses his mouth to hers and the kiss is mind numbing making her want more than just a makeout session on her couch. She has every intention of moving it to her bedroom but as usual, the universe has other plans.

“My apologies Miss Darcy but I thought it would be wise to advise you that your guests have returned and are on their way up.”

Barton jerks back with a dazed gaze and Darcy curses her luck and the Salvatore brothers with a moan of defeat. It takes them a minute to get their breathing under control before Darcy manages to drag herself off of Clint’s lap. She grabs her beer and he follows her lead chugging it down like he’s dying of thirst. She may or may not get caught watching his throat work in her own haze and he chuckles tugging her into his side. He has enough sense to turn the TV on right before the door to her apartment clicks open.

“Daddy is hooome!”

“You’re creepy.”

“And you are in trouble!” Damon singsongs as he strolls by her and into the kitchen. “No boys after eight, young lady!”

Stefan rolls his eyes as he sheds his jacket and gives Darcy and Clint a smile. The fridge door shuts just as a phone rings. Damon comes back into view and they watch as he juggles a beer and the device, answering the call. Elena sounds tired on the other side and Darcy knows the feeling.

“Yes, I’m being a good boy, shush now or you’ll ruin my rep. There are _ears_ here.” He pauses and Darcy tries not to eavesdrop too much. “Nope, yeah. Okay. Lord, Stefan call Barbie, she is babbling.”

Darcy smirks when Clint mouths ‘Barbie?’ at her and she pats his thigh before downing the rest of her own beer and pushing to her feet. She wiggles fingers at him and he takes them and follows her to the kitchen without question. Darcy knows Stefan will more than likely step out into the hall to call Caroline while Damon retreats to the guest room so he doesn’t get caught being adorable to his girlfriend.

“Do you wanna stay here tonight?” The words are out before she can lock them back up and she stops walking and spins around to see Clint just staring intensely at her. So she rambles on. “I mean, obviously just to sleep, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to. We’ll probably just watch a movie for old time’s sake then crash…”

“You’re such a dork when you’re nervous. Yes, I’ll stay. But only if there’s breakfast in the morning.”

“I’ll make your favorite pancakes and extra bacon. J, is there enough bacon to feed everyone including Damon and Stefan in the AM?” 

“I will make a note of it and it will be delivered first thing in the morning.”

“You’re a lifesaver!”

“I aim to please, Miss Darcy.”

Clint advances on her and presses her back against the counter, his hand finding purchase on her hips as his mouth meets hers. This kiss is slow and full of unspoken promises and Darcy’s knees go weak. Even a throat clearing in the doorway isn’t enough to make her shake the stars from her eyes. Clint does pull away, though and glances over his shoulder before stepping back with a smirk at Darcy.

“Well, isn’t this cozy. I’m glad that my presence smoothed whatever bump in the road you two crazy kids hit.”

“Damon, I swear on your car that I will let him shoot you.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I so would!”

The rest of the night is spent in laughter and smiles. When Darcy calls it a night it’s with Clint trailing behind her. They snuggle up under her covers and it’s like coming home. She falls asleep to the low mumble of Damon’s voice next door and the easy rhythm of Clint’s deep, even breaths.

 

*

 

Sunday morning is a lazy affair with breakfast as promised then Darcy has to see her two friends off. When they pull away she turns and presses her face into Clint’s chest and tries not to cry. She misses them already but at the same time she feels elated, because now she has Clint all to herself and oh the things she’s going to do with him…

Neither of them talk about him staying with her again, it just happens. Which they’re both okay with. After a movie with whomever was in the communal lounge Darcy and Clint slip away with no one noticing. (That’s a lie everyone knows and they all high-fived because, _finally_ ) They try to be all relaxed and boring for the better part of an hour before Darcy says fuck it and casually asks him if he wants to go to bed. It’s only four in the afternoon. It’s frantic; hands everywhere, clothes thrown aimlessly, and absolutely perfect.

Clint takes his time working Darcy up, starting at her toes and ending with his lips peppering kisses atop her eyes. She’s a sweaty and shaking mess and she’s had _enough_ waiting. She locks her legs around his hips and threads trembling hands through his damp hair, her gaze locking with his and she _keens_ when he sinks into her. _Finally_ , Darcy thinks as he gulps air into his lungs, arms flexed by her head where he holds himself over her. His pace is slow and deep, sensual to start and Darcy thinks she could die happy where she is but she’s going to kill him if he doesn’t _fuck_ her. She needs more but Barton is a fucking tease so she takes matters into her own hands, using her strength much to his momentarily shocked expression and reversing their positions.

 

_-Right now…_

 

Her hips rotated just so as she gazed down at Clint and she knew it would happen and was helpless to stop it. The head of his cock was perfectly aligned with her sweet spot and on every bounce she was getting closer. Darcy felt her fangs drop and his breath punched out of him as his fingers flexed on the skin of her hips. She dropped her head and slowed her pace a little attempting to get a hold of herself. But before she could will away the change, Clint maneuvered them so that he was sitting up and she was still impaled. He raised his hands to cradle her face and coaxed her to meet his gaze.

“You’re beautiful, don’t hide from me.” Darcy felt tears well up and blinked them away, her arms slipping around his neck. “You can …you know if you need to. It’s kinda hot.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Bullshit,” He bucked his hips up making her gasp. “I’m right aren’t I?” Darcy just nods and swallows thickly as he smoothes a thumb over the raised veins under her right eye. “Darcy, I accept who you are and I love everything about you. _This_ is a part of you and there isn’t anything of yours that I want to miss out on. You’ve got it under control, I—I trust you.”

Her eyes widen at his declaration and she leans in and carefully presses a kiss to his lips. “You love me?” He simply nods and bares his throat. Darcy moans as he thrusts up in an order to _move_ and she complies. Her hips work to bring them both to the finish as she dips her head in placing open-mouthed kisses along his shoulder until he’s covered in goosebumps. She waits until one of his hands curls hard enough to bruise into her pale hip while the other fists in her hair before she sinks her teeth into his heated flesh. The taste of Clint, the overwhelming sensations of having him inside of her, the sound of her name being shouted as he reaches his release; it tosses Darcy over the edge right along with him. She has only a second of clarity to pull back careful of her fangs before crying out and that’s how she comes.

Clint watches with fascination as she trembles in his arms, her lips red with his blood and his name tumbling from them as she falls apart. It’s the most gorgeous thing that he’s ever seen and yep, he’s in deep and doesn’t even care. He loves Darcy and wonders why he’d waited so damn long. Well, he wasn’t waiting any more and he sure as hell wasn’t letting her go.

Later when they’ve finished round three in the shower and found food for Clint, Darcy leads him back to the bedroom. With limbs tangled together she tries to get him to drink a little sip of her blood to heal the marks she left behind but he adamantly refuses. He wants them there, to wear them like a badge and Darcy thinks if she weren’t already in love with him, she would be then. Clint falls asleep first and Darcy watches him like a creeper until she can’t keep her eyes open anymore. She idly recalls picking on Damon years ago when he broke and admitted that he loved Elena. Darcy had asked him what it was like and as she drifts off to sleep her last conscious thought is a wisp of a memory, of Damon laughing as he’d turned to her and said; ‘ _Just don’t forget to breathe.’_

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, that happened and I'm not even sorry. Heh. Thank you from the bottom of my black heart if you actually read it. And on another note, just a little update really; I am working on something else. Hopefully It will be out by no later than November 1st... for reasons. Keep your fingers crossed and I'll see ya'll again in a couple of weeks. <3


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